


tomorrow's a little better (period.)

by jesse (accio_belle)



Series: android boy learns about periods, more news at 6 [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Goofy Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Multi, aka my new favourite tag, this time it's for connor, yep you read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26256385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_belle/pseuds/jesse
Summary: [11:43:02AM] You: I suppose she could make some time to see you. It’s in the best interest of the investigation, after all.[11:45:10AM] You: I’ll be a little busy playing catch-up for the next couple of days, but how does Friday after work sound? You can ride over with me. I’m sure she’ll be eager to see you.[11:49:17AM] ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]: Friday sounds wonderful, Detective. I look forward to it.[11:54:28AM] You: So do I, Connor. We’ll see you then.[11:55:08AM] ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]: Until then, Detective.[ANDERSON, Det. Connor  [ID: #317] has left the chatroom.]---whoops i tripped and fell on my keyboard and now "today sucks (period.)" has a sequel :shrug:
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Series: android boy learns about periods, more news at 6 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907944
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	tomorrow's a little better (period.)

**Author's Note:**

> [magic brian voice] hallo and welcome back to my cæv
> 
> as soon as i posted "today sucks" i decided it was my legal obligation to write a sequel, which you are currently reading right now!!! what is it about connor that makes me write so many words. i am clueless to the power he holds over me. it’s probably the adhd luv xx  
> (probably also the fact that i'm a filthy connor kinnie but shhhhh we do not need to talk about that)
> 
> do i know how police officers' schedules work? no. do i care enough to google it? also no. i’m just here to write connor being cute as hell i’m not looking for any sort of historical accuracy. or building floorplan accuracy, my knowledge of precincts comes from brooklyn nine-nine and that’s it.
> 
> todays fic brought to u by ["house of the rising sun" covered by alt-j](https://youtu.be/X1Knskoe15g) and ["agnes" by glass animals](https://youtu.be/nq3pnC4vcFc), on repeat because i am a depressed gayboy
> 
> enjoy!!

Compared to yesterday, today starts like a dream. Wake up. Shower. Put on a fresh pad. Eat breakfast in your robe while watching the news. Feed your cat. Get dressed. Take an Advil, just in case. Get coffee on your way to work. Park your car. Walk into work. Immediately start thinking of all the work you missed yesterday while being out of commission. Quietly panic.

Alright, so not quite a dream, but close enough. Leagues better than oversleeping and a cold shower.

Connor’s not there when you walk in, which isn’t a total surprise. Nine times out of ten, the android has to drag Lieutenant Anderson out of bed in order to make it to work before noon. Still, you think it would have been nice to see him sitting at his desk when you arrived. Maybe he’d smile at you, offer a quiet _“Good morning, Detective, I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”_ He might even stop by your desk to check up on you, how sweet would that be?

You shake your head firmly. No daydreaming on the job. Especially not about your unbelievably hot coworker. Save it for when you’re home, cooking dinner, and thinking about Connor’s face as he watched you teach him how to cook eggs. The way he held your cat. His warm hand on your stomach. His lips on your forehead. The ring of gold in his eyes.

Right! Work! No daydreaming! Get it together!

The precinct is nearly empty at this hour, save for the androids in their charging stations, and Captain Fowler in his own office. You make a beeline for your own desk and you're logging into your terminal when Tina stops by, a cup of coffee and a small drugstore bag in hand.

“Glad to see you back in one piece, Detective,” she says, handing you the bag. “You looked dead on your feet yesterday. Thought you were gonna die on us for a moment there.”

“The first day is always the worst, but I somehow didn’t expect it to be _that_ bad.” You peer into the paper bag. Your eyes light up. It’s filled nearly to the brim with different kinds of chocolate, most of which are your absolute favorite. Tina’s the fucking _best_.

“Soooooo…”

Oh God, here she goes.

“A little birdie told me a certain android detective escorted you home yesterday after lunch.” Tina waggles her eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes.

“Does that little birdie’s name start with ‘H’ and end with ‘ank Anderson the massive fucking blabbermouth’?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, but hopefully you do.”

“Tina!”

She cackles, dodging you when you try to whack her with a chocolate bar.

“Relax, I was just worried about you, so I asked the old man if he knew where you were.” She takes a sip of her coffee, making a face when it burns her tongue. “So what’d you two get up to?”

Nosy Nancy. You love her anyways. Besides, it’s not like you wouldn’t grill her if she had been in your position.

“We didn’t kiss, if that’s what you’re implying. We didn’t do anything, he just… got me some medicine, made sure I didn’t bleed out. We went for a walk. He went home. End of story.” You know if you mention him sleeping with you and trying to cook for you, you’ll never hear the end of it from Tina. And if Tina knows, she’ll tell Chris. And if Chris knows, Gavin will eventually know. And you _definitely_ don’t want anyone teasing Connor about it, especially not Gavin. Except for Lieutenant Anderson; you’re pretty sure he’s legally required to tease Connor about anything and everything.

“End of story?” She pouts, glaring at you over the rim of her cup.

“ _Yes_ , Tina.”

“Fiiiiiine. But if I hear wedding bells in the future, I expect an invite. VIP-style. Also, I want to be there when you buy your wedding dress. Can I be in charge of snacks, too?”

You grab a case file and smack her shoulder with it. She yelps as her coffee nearly spills down her front. You whack her again for good measure.

“There’s no ‘wedding bells’! I hardly know the guy!”

“Wait, actually, can I be your maid of honor?”

“Tina, I swear to God, I will block you on every known form of social media.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, we’re coworkers.”

“I will forge a transfer form with zero hesitation. How does Midland sound to you?”

“A precinct without you? Terrible! Awful! Unacceptable!”

It’s mornings like these, when nobody else is there yet and you can goof around with Tina, that rekindle your love for your job. You have a connection with her that you can’t quite replicate with your other coworkers. Maybe it’s because her sense of humor is identical to yours. Or maybe it’s because she’s pretty much the only other person you work with who understands the monthly struggle. You make a mental note to bring her lunch every day when it’s her turn to suffer.

Hank walks in while the two of you are mock-duelling with pencils, griping about it being way too early to be at work. Connor is following right behind, checking something on his tablet. He looks up as he passes by you and Tina.

“Good morning, Officer Chen,” he says with a nod. His eyes meet yours, and a rush of heat floods your chest. His smile is sweet as sugar. “Good morning, Detective. You’re looking well.”

“Feeling pretty good, Detective Anderson, thank you.”

Ah yes, the sexual tension between you and your hot coworker who pretty much carried you into your apartment and spent an entire afternoon by your side to make sure you weren’t going to die on him. Romance in the modern age.

Hank groans as he takes a seat at his desk. “For fuck’s sake, call the kid by his name. None of that ‘Detective Anderson’ shit. It’s weird to hear it when it’s not about me.”

You can’t help yourself. “Why, Lieutenant Anderson! Are you afraid Connor will do a better job than you did?”

He points a finger at you, though the action has no malice behind it.

“Watch it, you.”

Your smile is pure sugar. The man rolls his eyes and turns to his terminal. Behind you, Tina hides her laughter behind a cough that fools absolutely nobody.

As your other coworkers enter the room (heralded by Gavin, yelling about traffic as usual) and the work day begins, Tina claps a hand on your shoulder. “We’d better get the day started,” she says. “Jimmy’s after work, to celebrate your triumphant return?”

“I was gone for one afternoon.”

“And? I still wanna get bowdy, it’s been way too long.”

“You’re incorrigible. Raincheck until next week?”

“Booooo. You’d better not flake out!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Chen.”

You turn to your terminal and open the file you had been working on before you left yesterday. Another day, another case. Time to get to work.

* * *

The day is spent mostly doing paperwork and catching up on what you missed yesterday. You don’t mind much, though; the routine is calming, plus you have a pretty nice work playlist going on.

Throughout the morning, you find your gaze returning to Connor’s desk. He types diligently on his terminal, pausing occasionally to talk to Hank about one thing or another. Once, when nobody is looking, you catch Connor watching you. His hand lifts in a shy wave. You smile brightly at him, and his face glows a light blue. He’s so cute even when he’s not trying to be, you can hardly stand it.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up in the corner of your terminal, drawing your attention away from the messy files you’re trying to organize.

 **(1) NEW MESSAGE REQUEST FROM:** ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]

[ACCEPT?] [DECLINE?]

Of course he’d take Lieutenant Anderson’s last name. You wonder if there might eventually be adoption papers in his future. Might be kind of silly, adopting an android who looks and behaves like a fully-grown man, but you don’t really think either of them would mind very much.

You click to accept.

**[ACCEPT]**

[CHATROOM MEMBERS: You; ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]]

[11:28:49AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** You’re looking much better today, Detective.

Is he… checking up on you? That’s pretty sweet of him.

[11:29:04AM] You: Thanks, Con. I should be back to 100% by lunch.

[11:29:31AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** I’m very glad to hear that.

You remember something he mentioned the other day. Your fingers fly over your keyboard.

[11:30:48AM] You: So, how goes your investigation on that rogue deviant that somehow broke into my apartment yesterday afternoon?

You know without looking that he has a smile on his face.

[11:33:51AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** No new leads since the incident occurred, unfortunately. But I do need to interview my prime witness in this case as soon as possible.

[11:35:23AM] You: Oh? And who might that be?

[11:36:58AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** Your cat, of course.

You type and send a reply before you can psych yourself out too much.

[11:38:17AM] You: Is this your way of asking if you can visit her later?

The three minutes until his next message are agonizing.

[11:41:32AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** Perhaps. :-)

He uses emoticons? It’s not even lunch and you’re already about to die from a cuteness overload.

[11:43:02AM] You: I suppose she could make some time to see you. It’s in the best interest of the investigation, after all.

[11:45:10AM] You: I’ll be a little busy playing catch-up for the next couple of days, but how does Friday after work sound? You can ride over with me. I’m sure she’ll be eager to see you.

[11:49:17AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** Friday sounds wonderful, Detective. I look forward to it.

[11:54:28AM] You: So do I, Connor. We’ll see you then.

[11:55:08AM] **ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317]:** Until then, Detective.

**[ANDERSON, Det. Connor [ID: #317] has left the chatroom.]**

You stare at the empty chat room for a moment longer, a smile toying at the corners of your mouth, before closing the window and returning to work. Friday can’t come soon enough.

* * *

The days pass in a haze of field work and paperwork. You make decent headway on a couple of cases, conduct interviews, patrol neighborhoods with Tina and occasionally Chris, and have exactly one (1) exciting on-foot chase through a shopping mall. All in all, not a terrible week. You wish you’d had more time to file reports, though. Nothing you can’t spend the weekend catching up on.

Your phone dings as you change out of your uniform. A text from Connor illuminates the screen. It’s a little embarrassing how fast you grab your phone.

**ONE (1) UNREAD MESSAGE**  
From: robocop (but cuter)!! 🤖  
Sent: 6:39PM

Is the witness still available for interrogation, Detective?

You glance at Tina, standing several feet away from you. She’s fixing her ponytail in the mirror. Maybe you can type out a response without her noticing.

From: You  
Sent: 6:40PM

She’s at home waiting for you, Detective Anderson. I’ll take you to her momentarily.

From: robocop (but cuter)!! 🤖  
Sent: 6:40PM

I will be waiting for you by your car.

From: You  
Sent: 6:41PM

Sounds like a plan! :D

Was the smiley too much? You think it might have been too much. Maybe you should–

“Who ya texting?”

_“SWEET JESUS.”_

Tina’s sudden appearance behind you nearly makes you drop your phone. A grin spreads across her face as she tightens her ponytail.

“Ooh, is it Connor? I bet it’s Connor. You wouldn’t have been smiling like that if it wasn’t him.”

Wait, you were smiling? You mentally whack yourself; subtle and cool about this dumb crush, you are not.

You roll your eyes, pocketing your phone and bending down to tie your sneakers.

“My cat worked her magic ways, as she is wont to do, and now he’s wrapped around her toe beans,” you explain. “He wanted to see her again, so we’re gonna hang out for a bit. Stop smiling like that, it’s not anything special.”

“Babe, darling, honeypie, sweetums, dearest, light of my life. He drove you home from work. He stayed at your apartment to make sure you were alright. You look at him like he hung the moon in the sky. You smile when you text him.” She bumps you with her hip. “Are you sure there’s nothing on your end?”

“...is it that obvious?”

She grins triumphantly. “To me? Absolutely, you’re about as subtle as a brick wall. Also, I’m extremely observant and very cool.” You snort, and she taps you with her hairbrush. “To him? Nah, he’s about as dense as the aforementioned brick wall.”

“Do you think—”

Tina claps a hand over your mouth, looking at you very seriously.

“Nope, nuh-uh, we are not going down this overthinky road again. It’s none of my business, anyways; I’m not you, I’m not Connor, I don’t know what either of you think of the other. But I will reiterate, once again, that he _drove you home from work_ and _stayed at your apartment to make sure you were alright._ Think of that what you will.”

Dammit, she’s got a point. You hate it so much when she’s right.

The two of you ride the elevator down to the precinct parking lot. As the doors open, you see Connor leaning against the side of your car. He’s looking at a tablet in his hands. His blazer is folded over one arm and his sleeves are rolled up again, exposing his forearms.

Tina elbows you in the side. She gives you a very meaningful side-eye, complete with raised eyebrows. Her expression reads _“you’d better tap that before someone else beats you to it, and that someone may very well be me”_ loud and clear.

You elbow her right back. Your expression reads _“shut the fuck up before I tell Fowler it was you who got so drunk at Chris’ birthday last month you trashed Gavin’s desk when nobody was looking”._

She gets the message.

You and Tina split away from each other with a wave, her towards her car, and you towards Connor. He looks up from his tablet as you approach. His expression brightens considerably when he sees it’s you.

“Hello, Detective!” he says. “How are you feeling?”

_Connor, sliding beneath your bed’s comforter and putting his arm around you._   
_Connor, a hand on the frame of your bedroom door, smiling at you._   
_Thirium blossoming across his cheeks._   
_Connor holding a smoking toaster out the window._   
_His cat in your arms._   
_The sound of his laugh._   
_“Thank you for letting me take care of you.”_

“Are you alright, Detective?”

Connor’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “What? Oh! Yeah. I’m good.”

“Your eyes were unfocused and your heart rate was quite elevated. Are you still in pain from yesterday?”

“No, no, I’m alright, just zoned out for a moment.” You smile before he can respond, hoping to reassure him. “Are you ready to get going?”

“Yes, of course!”

You’re about to unlock your car, but the sound of an engine revving behind you makes both you and Connor turn around.

“WEAR PROTECTION!” Tina shrieks as she zooms past in her car. You groan and cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. Connor cocks his head to the side, watching Tina’s car turn the corner and disappear.

“What did Officer Chen mean by ‘protection?” he wonders. “It’s the law to wear seatbelts while in a moving vehicle. She should be aware of that.”

You shake your head. You are not discussing condoms with Connor. Not today.

“Ignore her, Con, I think the stress of work is finally getting to her.” You unlock your car, throwing your coat and bag in the backseat and taking your rightful place behind the wheel. “C’mon, we got a witness to interrogate.”

Connor slides into the passenger seat, buckling up and grinning at you. “Would you say you’re… _feline_ pretty good about this lead?”

“Connor I will kick you out of my car in a heartbeat. Where the hell did you even learn cat puns, anyways?”

“I have the entirety of the internet in my head. I am quite familiar with most ‘memes’ and the like.”

“Detective Connor Anderson, CyberLife’s most advanced android-turned-deviant, is a memelord. What is the world coming to?”

“Can I offer you a nice Nyan Cat in this trying time?”

“Oh my God, Anderson showed you _Always Sunny?_ Unbelievable!”

Laughter fills the car as you and Connor drive towards your apartment.

* * *

“Where were you yesterday afternoon around three-thirty?”

No response.

“Did you see a deviant on the premises at that time?”

The witness’ tail flicks. She closes her eyes, then opens them again.

“Are you in league with said deviant?”

The witness mews and reaches up to bat Connor’s nose with her paw. The android sighs, trapping her paw gently between his fingers and glancing over at you.

“We’re getting nowhere with the witness,” he admits. He even sounds genuinely resigned. He’s really taking this charade to the max. You have to admit, it’s extremely cute, especially with your cat cradled in his arms like a baby.

“Maybe she really didn’t see anything,” you suggest. “Or maybe there was no deviant after all. Ever consider that?”

Connor eyes you with a gaze that is pure seriousness.

“Detective, will you please take this case seriously? There is a rogue deviant running around Detroit, burning the eggs and toast of the innocent folks in this city, and we are the only two who can put a stop to it.”

You clap a hand on his shoulder, forcing your expression into something a little more somber.

“You’re absolutely right, Detective Anderson. Allow me to go over the facts with you one final time.”

You walk slowly around your kitchen, gesturing to invisible evidence markers. Connor follows a couple feet behind, pretending to write notes on your cat’s stomach. She purrs and nestles further in his arms.

“The deviant entered here—” you motion to the open window in your living room “—and crossed towards the kitchen, presumably where it proceeded to turn my eggs to charcoal and pretty much destroy my toaster.”

You glance at Connor. His expression is still focused, but there’s a pull to the corner of his mouth that makes you smile. He’s having fun with this.

“You say you didn’t see the deviant, right?”

“Right. I had my back turned the entire time.”

“But there’s only one set of footprints in the kitchen. Which can only mean…”

A pause, for dramatic effect. You whip around, pointing a finger at Connor.

“...the deviant in question was _you_ , Detective Anderson!”

Connor gasps, scandalized. He keeps his open-mouthed expression set perfectly on his face as he lowers your cat to the ground and stalks towards you.

“You dare accuse _me_ of being a deviant?” he demands, though his voice holds no real anger. You poke him squarely in the chest.

“I absolutely dare.”

“Where’s your proof, Detective?”

“It’s right here!”

You reach around Connor as though to get something from behind him, but you instead grab his wrists and pull them behind his back. The quick motion nearly unbalances Connor, who lets out an undignified squeak of surprise. He steadies himself quickly and pretends to struggle against your loose grip.

“Y–you’d better confess now, you f–filthy deviant!” you choke out between giggles. “Or else I’ll haul your ass down to the precinct and give you what-for!”

Connor looks down his nose at you. “I have nothing to confess,” he says haughtily. You touch your forehead to his back, unable to talk anymore through your laughter. Connor finally breaks too, muscles loosening as he laughs with you.

“Congratulations, Detective, you’ve discovered my ploy,” he admits. “I fabricated the story of a ‘rogue deviant’ in order to fool you, so you wouldn’t realize that it was truly I who burned the eggs. But alas, my clever plot was no match for your superior intelligence. I confess. Do with me what you will.”

Those words… Hoo boy. Calm down, loins. Be cool.

You release your hold on his wrists and step back. He turns to face you, hands behind his back like always, eyes bright with amusement.

“You can make it up to me later,” you say. “Maybe we could go for coffee after work, or something. Sounds good?”

“Sounds wonderful, Detective.”

* * *

After you singlehandedly crack the case of The Rogue Deviant Who Broke Into Your Apartment And Torched Your Eggs Into Oblivion, you decide to put something on to watch. You queue up a streaming service and introduce Connor to your one true love: nature documentaries. He seems to enjoy them nearly as much as you do, especially when an animal resembling a dog or a cat appears on-screen. Connor’s posture completely relaxes by the time you’re halfway through the first episode; he lays on his back, head on a pillow you have resting on your legs.

The TV goes dark after a couple of hour-long episodes. You stretch your arms above your head and lean against the back of your couch, sighing contentedly. Nothing like an evening of learning how lions hunt down their prey.

“I have… a confession to make.”

The world stops spinning for one terrifying moment. “Everything okay, Connor?”

“Of course, yes. I apologize if I’ve worried you in any way. I simply wish to talk with you about something.”

Connor sits up, toying with the end of his tie. He never used to have nervous habits before deviancy, but now, if he’s agitated, his fingers hardly ever stop moving.

He rubs his arms, staring at some point in the distance. “After escaping from CyberLife and Amanda, I felt so cold. Not just physically, but… It was as though they had taken something from me, something I was unaware I even had, and I was lost without it. It frightened me, not having a set purpose anymore. But then Hank took me in for good, and I was able to stay at the DPD, and work alongside you, and I felt whole again. I felt like I had a place where I truly belonged, with people who appreciate me.

“After the events of yesterday, I have been feeling… somewhat different around you in particular.” He takes a deep breath. “I think something else changed inside me after our time together.”

He looks at you now. His eyes are impossible to look away from.

“I’m not sure if you recall, but while you slept I was still awake, listening to you breathe. You rolled over at one point.” He chuckles softly. “Nearly on top of me, might I add. You had your arm around me, and your face was right here.” He taps the part of his shoulder where it connects to his collarbone. “I remember how warm your breath and skin were. I don’t remember ever feeling that warm before.”

Connor trails off. His LED blinks yellow for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is soft, almost shy.

“You said my name, Detective. Quietly. Just once. But once was more than enough. When I heard you say it, when you rolled into my arms like that, I think… I think I understood why Markus and North…”

He reaches for you. His hand, you realize with concern, is shaking. His fingers brush against yours, electricity leaping from his skin to yours and back again.

“You awakened something in me yesterday. Feelings I never knew I was capable of.” HIs fingers tighten around yours. “I thought of you from the moment I left your apartment to the moment I saw you again at the precinct today. Every time you’ve left my line of sight today, I have thought of you. When I saw you sitting at your desk this morning, I wanted to–”

He breaks off, LED flashing yellow again for a worrying moment. He takes a moment to compose himself before continuing.

“I wanted to be selfish. I _want_ to be selfish. I want to wake up beside you every day. I want to help you cook breakfast, even if I burn it. I want to bring you coffee while you work. I want to come home to– to our apartment. I want to carry you to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. I want to take care of you when you’re sick. I want to–”

“Connor?”

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

He nearly trips over himself in his haste to pull you into his arms.

The pillow tumbles to the ground. Your hand cups the back of his head, fingers in his hair, as you pull his mouth to yours. The moment your lips touch, the tension seems to drain out of Connor’s body all at once. His hands are steady on your hips, his fingers just barely dipping under the hem of your sweatshirt. His hair is softer than you had expected; it pulls easily through your fingers, no knots or tangles to be found. It’s softest at the base of his skull, and when you gently tug on it, Connor’s mouth opens beneath yours. You take the opportunity to run the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip.

Connor shudders, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. One of his hands drags up your side and over your shoulder to cup your jaw in his palm. The other moves beneath your sweatshirt. You inhale sharply through your nose as his fingers trace patterns along the skin of your waist. His teeth catch your bottom lip between them, and he grins when you pull him closer. You’re completely in his lap at this point, your thighs on either side of his hips. The position is very, _very_ nice.

You kiss his lips, his cheek, his jaw, his throat, following a slow path up to below his ear. Every time you reach a particularly sensitive spot, your name falls from his lips in the sweetest way. Your hands slide down his chest, fingers loosening his tie, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. He gasps into your ear, shuddering on the inhale. It’s probably the best thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and you’ve heard Gavin’s drunken one-man rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.

“I take it you feel the same way?” He sounds as breathless as you are.

You kiss him again rather than answer, and his laugh buzzes against your lips. You feel wonderfully dizzy, like a child who has drunk one too many cans of soda.

“May I try something, Detective?”

Your voice still hasn’t returned, so you nod. He takes your wrist gently in his hand.

“I know it won’t work, but–”

The artificial skin peels back from Connor’s hand as he touches his palm to yours. You’re not an android, so you can’t interface, but there’s something about the meaning that makes both you and Connor lose your breath.

You shift your hand sideways and fit your fingers in the spaces between his. He mimics your movements without hesitation, linking your fingers together. His hand is perfectly cool in yours, missing that thin layer of heat his artificial skin provides. You don’t mind it. With that gone, he feels a little like porcelain, like he’s something delicate and easily breakable. But you know what lies beneath his skin is much sturdier than it seems. The thought of him using his strength against you is both frightening and, frankly, a little arousing.

“Your skin is warm,” he notes, quite matter-of-factly. His thumb brushes your own, almost absentmindedly. You tilt your head towards his, quietly relishing in how he immediately leans his head against yours.

“And yours is cold,” you reply. He smiles, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Opposites attract,” is all he manages to say before his mouth is once again on yours.

* * *

When the two of you pull apart again, Connor’s button-up is completely undone and your sweatshirt is… well, it’s somewhere nearby. You’ll find it later.

You rest your head on Connor’s shoulder, relishing in the way your skin ripples with goosebumps every time he ghosts his fingers up your arm. He turns his head to press his lips to your forehead, mimicking his actions right before he left last night. The room is quiet and dimly-lit, the sounds of Detroit nightlife rising from the streets below to filter in through your open living room window.

Connor murmurs your name, and you raise your head to meet his eyes. He can’t quite stop the smirk from showing on his face.

“Does this mean I can ‘stay the night’?”

You drop your forehead to his shoulder, shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Connor’s arms wrap around your back, solid and safe. You can feel his own laughter echo through your bones.

 _This,_ the two of you think, _is what love should feel like._

**Author's Note:**

> many kisses to the friendzone!! they werent here when i was writing this i just love them all a whole lot and want them to be aware of this fact :pisskiss: <3
> 
> [follow me on the bird app](https://twitter.com/accio_belle?lang=en), i’m always on the hunt for that good good internet clout


End file.
